She.
She was tall and proud and graceful,
long laughing red hair framed her face.
Her sea green eyes, calm and serene,
looked at the world with a level gaze.
Generous lips in a half smile
above a firmly rounded jaw.
Small ears nestled close to her head
in each a golden crescent moon.
Even white teeth showed when she smiled.
Clad in a plain green linen dress,
the swelling curves of her firm breasts
were balanced by her rounded hips.
She showed no fear nor yet surprise,
but looked at me with interest.
She spoke, her voice was soft and sweet
In a language I did not know.
I only know my heart was gone,
plucked from me by her mystery.
She smiled and took my hand
and took me whither I should go.
She led me to a small cabin
alone and hidden in the trees.
There without words or need of words,
we came together lovingly.
We loved and slept and slept and loved,
until the evening twilight fell.
In happiness with limbs entwined
we settled in the soft darkness.
I was woken by bright sunlight
In a bramble patch, stiff and sore.
My strange love was nowhere to be seen,
but in my hand a crescent moon.
For thirty years I have returned
faithfully each summer.
In forlorn hope she would appear.
She kept my heart. I kept my faith.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Source
The sleep that flits on baby's eyes-does anybody know from where
it comes? Yes, there is a rumour that it has its dwelling where,
in the fairy village among shadows of the forest dimly lit with
glow-worms, there hang two shy buds of enchantment. From there it
comes to kiss baby's eyes.
The smile that flickers on baby's lips when he sleeps-does
anybody know where it was born? Yes, there is a rumour that a young
pale beam of a crescent moon touched the edge of a vanishing autumn
cloud, and there the smile was first born in the dream of a dew
washed morning-the smile that flickers on baby's lips when he
sleeps.
The sweet, soft freshness hat blooms on baby's limbs-does
anybody know where it was hidden so long? Yes, when the mother was
a young girl it lay pervading her heart in tender and silent
mystery of love-the sweet, soft freshness that has bloomed on
baby's limbs.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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He Called Her In
I
He called her in from me and shut the door.
And she so loved the sunshine and the sky!--
She loved them even better yet than I
That ne'er knew dearth of them--my mother dead,
Nature had nursed me in her lap instead:
And I had grown a dark and eerie child
That rarely smiled,
Save when, shut all alone in grasses high,
Looking straight up in God's great lonesome sky
And coaxing Mother to smile back on me.
'Twas lying thus, this fair girl suddenly
Came to me, nestled in the fields beside
A pleasant-seeming home, with doorway wide--
The sunshine beating in upon the floor
Like golden rain.--
O sweet, sweet face above me, turn again
And leave me! I had cried, but that an ache
Within my throat so gripped it I could make
No sound but a thick sobbing. Cowering so,
I felt her light hand laid
Upon my hair--a touch that ne'er before
Had tamed me thus, all soothed and unafraid--
It seemed the touch the children used to know
When Christ was here, so dear it was--so dear,--
At once I loved her as the leaves love dew
In midmost summer when the days are new.
Barely an hour I knew her, yet a curl
Of silken sunshine did she clip for me
Out of the bright May-morning of her hair,
And bound and gave it to me laughingly,
And caught my hands and called me '_Little girl_,'
Tiptoeing, as she spoke, to kiss me there!
And I stood dazed and dumb for very stress
Of my great happiness.
She plucked me by the gown, nor saw how mean
The raiment--drew me with her everywhere:
Smothered her face in tufts of grasses green:
Put up her dainty hands and peeped between
Her fingers at the blossoms--crooned and talked
To them in strange, glad whispers, as we walked,--
Said _this_ one was her angel mother--_this_,
Her baby-sister--come back, for a kiss,
Clean from the Good-World!--smiled and kissed them, then
Closed her soft eyes and kissed them o'er again.
And so did she beguile me--so we played,--
She was the dazzling Shine--I, the dark Shade--
And we did mingle like to these, and thus,
Together, made
The perfect summer, pure and glorious.
So blent we, till a harsh voice broke upon
Our happiness.--She, startled as a fawn,
Cried, 'Oh, 'tis Father!'--all the blossoms gone
From out her cheeks as those from out her grasp.--
Harsher the voice came:--She could only gasp
Affrightedly, 'Good-bye!--good-bye! good-bye!'
And lo, I stood alone, with that harsh cry
Ringing a new and unknown sense of shame
Through soul and frame,
And, with wet eyes, repeating o'er and o'er,--
'He called her in from me and shut the door!'
II
He called her in from me and shut the door!
And I went wandering alone again--
So lonely--O so very lonely then,
I thought no little sallow star, alone
In all a world of twilight, e'er had known
Such utter loneliness. But that I wore
Above my heart that gleaming tress of hair
To lighten up the night of my despair,
I think I might have groped into my grave
Nor cared to wave
The ferns above it with a breath of prayer.
And how I hungered for the sweet, sweet face
That bent above me in my hiding-place
That day amid the grasses there beside
Her pleasant home!--'Her _pleasant_ home!' I sighed,
Remembering;--then shut my teeth and feigned
The harsh voice calling _me_,--then clinched my nails
So deeply in my palms, the sharp wounds pained,
And tossed my face toward heaven, as one who pales
In splendid martyrdom, with soul serene,
As near to God as high the guillotine.
And I had _envied_ her? Not that--O no!
But I had longed for some sweet haven so!--
Wherein the tempest-beaten heart might ride
Sometimes at peaceful anchor, and abide
Where those that loved me touched me with their hands,
And looked upon me with glad eyes, and slipped
Smooth fingers o'er my brow, and lulled the strands
Of my wild tresses, as they backward tipped
My yearning face and kissed it satisfied.
Then bitterly I murmured as before,--
'He called her in from me and shut the door!'
III
He called her in from me and shut the door!
After long struggling with my pride and pain--
A weary while it seemed, in which the more
I held myself from her, the greater fain
Was I to look upon her face again;--
At last--at last--half conscious where my feet
Were faring, I stood waist-deep in the sweet
Green grasses there where she
First came to me.--
The very blossoms she had plucked that day,
And, at her father's voice, had cast away,
Around me lay,
Still bright and blooming in these eyes of mine;
And as I gathered each one eagerly,
I pressed it to my lips and drank the wine
Her kisses left there for the honey-bee.
Then, after I had laid them with the tress
Of her bright hair with lingering tenderness,
I, turning, crept on to the hedge that bound
Her pleasant-seeming home--but all around
Was never sign of her!--The windows all
Were blinded; and I heard no rippling fall
Of her glad laugh, nor any harsh voice call;--
But clutching to the tangled grasses, caught
A sound as though a strong man bowed his head
And sobbed alone--unloved--uncomforted!--
And then straightway before
My tearless eyes, all vividly, was wrought
A vision that is with me evermore:--
A little girl that lies asleep, nor hears
Nor heeds not any voice nor fall of tears.--
And I sit singing o'er and o'er and o'er,--
'God called her in from him and shut the door!'
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Verses To A Child
O raise those eyes to me again
And smile again so joyously,
And fear not, love; it was not pain
Nor grief that drew these tears from me;
Beloved child, thou canst not tell
The thoughts that in my bosom dwell
Whene'er I look on thee!
Thou knowest not that a glance of thine
Can bring back long departed years
And that thy blue eyes' magic shine
Can overflow my own with tears,
And that each feature soft and fair
And every curl of golden hair,
Some sweet remembrance bears.
Just then thou didst recall to me
A distant long forgotten scene,
One smile, and one sweet word from thee
Dispelled the years that rolled between;
I was a little child again,
And every after joy and pain
Seemed never to have been.
Tall forest trees waved over me,
To hide me from the heat of day,
And by my side a child like thee
Among the summer flowerets lay.
He was thy sire, thou merry child.
Like thee he spoke, like thee he smiled,
Like thee he used to play.
O those were calm and happy days,
We loved each other fondly then;
But human love too soon decays,
And ours can never bloom again.
I never thought to see the day
When Florian's friendship would decay
Like those of colder men.
Now, Flora, thou hast but begun
To sail on life's deceitful sea,
O do not err as I have done,
For I have trusted foolishly;
The faith of every friend I loved
I never doubted till I proved
Their heart's inconstancy.
'Tis mournful to look back upon
Those long departed joys and cares,
But I will weep since thou alone
Art witness to my streaming tears.
This lingering love will not depart,
I cannot banish from my heart
The friend of childish years.
But though thy father loves me not,
Yet I shall still be loved by thee,
And though I am by him forgot,
Say wilt thou not remember me!
I will not cause thy heart to ache;
For thy regretted father's sake
I'll love and cherish thee.
poem by Anne Brontë
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Summer Recess of 62.
It was the second day
of the summer recess
and Judith and you
walked through the field
behind her house
and sat down on the grass
the sky above blue
like an upside-down ocean
with the white clouds
like small fluffy islands
and she said
Mother doesn't trust you
why not?
you asked
she doesn't trust any male
she says they're all after
the one thing
you looked at her
sitting there beside you
her hair brown and curly
and her eyes blue
and bright
and you said
not all males
are the same
she looked up
at the sky
and said
I know but that's
how she sees things
my mother likes you
you said
she says you're good for me
keep me focused
she smiled
and lay back
on the grass
and you lay
beside her
and turned
to look at her there
taking in her profile
and she turned
to face you
and she said
does your mother
trust us to be together?
sure she does
you said
an airplane
went over the sky
a sparrow hawk
hovered above
its eyes watching
and waiting
you put your hand
on her hip
and she placed
her hand on yours
you felt her hipbone
beneath her green skirt
moved your palm
gently over and over
she moved your hand
off of her hip
and said
just in case
mother's looking at us
from the upstairs window
would she?
you asked
of course
she said
she held your hand
and took it
and laid it
on her breast
her heart
somewhere beating
your hand sensing
the softness beneath
the white blouse
and she said
just as well
she never saw us
last Christmas
and you smiled
and remembered
and the sparrow hawk
flew off through the sky
and the sound
of a distant train
and your heart thumping
like the downpour of rain.
poem by Terry Collett
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The next to last pew
An old man was at church last Sunday
He sat in the next to last pew
I slid into the seat right next to him
And gave a him a friendly “hi-dee-do”
He gave me a nod with his time worn brow
Then swiveled his head all around
While his gaze sized up the parishioners
His ears seemed to soak up their sound
His sad gaze seemed to pick out each person
One by one, as he seemed to stare into their soul
To some he nodded, in an approving way
While to others his look was ice cold
I asked if he was a member of this church
I said I wasn’t familiar with him, was he new?
He smiled a soft smile and shook his head no
Said “I’m here most of the time…
here in this next to last pew”
I said “what do you think of our little church”
He rubbed his hands through his hair of silver grey
Looked deep in my eyes and gave a soft, sad sigh
And said “you may not like what I have to say”
He said “ Son, I can see into the soul of these people
And to you, what I say is on the level”
That Most are fools in the eyes of the Lord
The rest are pawns in the hands of the devil
I looked all around at my fellow church-goers
Of whom he spoke, I knew of more than a few
And when I turned back to allow “that could be so”
I was all alone in the next to last pew!
poem by David Whalen
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The Gates of Innocence
Up round St John Street we walked one night, while moonlight brightly glowed,
My arm around you, yours round me, with two friends long ago.
So deep into love’s old sweet dream in moments now long flown,
And like a leaf upon the breeze my heart was not my own.
Oh the road to winning you was fraught, with quicksands all the way.
I sank and swam, I walked and ran, I wooed you night and day,
To simply hold your hand so soft, or gaze on eyes so blue,
In steep green fields at Clachanmore when I worked next to you.
But no moon nor love could quite foresee that I would wriggle free,
Against my heart, against my will, somewhat regretfully.
The roads we walked were soon to part, to sever us for ill,
To leave the Crescent we once walked, to ghosts that haunt me still.
Now the thoughts that circle round me here, they strengthen with the night.
As if the years have fallen to that young love’s breathless might,
Your eyes beguiled the doubting stars and left me void of sense,
Before the moments we fell through, the gates of innocence.
Now the moonlight shines less brightly on the lonely fields we cleared,
And St John Street is not as sweet as when I held you dear.
The friends we walked with on that night still walk together yet.
The full moon’s promise holds as true, as when we two last met.
chorus
The winds blow cold on those steep green fields
And strangers walk down St John Street
I’ve walked the crescent where love grew
Where innocence once sheltered me and you
Rainbow Sky
Tonight, I saw a radiant rainbow sky:
Stunning colours, which caught my eye.
Shades of blue, yellow, peach, and red:
Absolutely amazing, it has to be said!
It wasn't very long after the sun had set:
It was an evening sky, which I won't forget.
It was Nature's show, at the close of day,
And I had trouble tearing my eyes away.
I wonder how all those colours appear,
And how they look so bright and clear?
The horizon never looked quite so pretty:
That darkness fell, really was a great pity.
Once darkness fell, there no colours left.
Losing the rainbow sky, I felt quite bereft.
I saw the sky ablaze with colours of fire;
Of seeing such sights, I doubt I'll ever tire.
Away from the horizon, but not too far,
Were a crescent moon, and twinkling star.
This patch of sky had a much darker hue:
I guess some may call it ‘midnight blue.'
In the night sky, the moon and stars shone:
Brighter still, once the daylight had gone.
Tired out, I snuggled down in my cosy bed,
With moon and stars shining over my head.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We washed my car
It was a warm summers day
We washed my car outside
Talking, laughing, splashing
We washed the car with pride
You looked so cute and sexy
With soap suds in your hair
I stopped and smiled at you
And yes I had to stare
You looked at me and frowned
Oh how I loved that look
I laughed and simply smiled
You in my arms I took
Our hands were wet, so was the kiss
Our tongues were warm inside
Your body mine aroused
Your awesome smile so wide
We threw the sponges down
Together as fell
Wet and cold entwined
We kissed without a tell
poem by Bradley Lester
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That Summer That Love
The summer sun
warmed you and Jane
as you made your way
up the dried up
muddy track
towards the Downs
the sunlight
pouring through
the branches of trees
overhead
you thinking
of your work
on the farm below
the day before
the weighing of the milk
the clearing out
of cowsheds
and the cowman saying
what do you want to do
when you leave school?
to be a cowman
you replied
you want to get yourself
a proper job
you don't want to do this
for a living
and Jane said
breaking you
from your thoughts
I want to show you
where I used to sit on the Downs
and where I used to collect
bones and skeletons of rabbits
and moles and birds
and you turned
and looked at her
as she walked beside you
her hands swinging
as she walked
her black hair tied
in a small bun
at the back
and her yellowy flowered dress
capturing your eyes
my father works in the woods
further along
you said
he works in the ditches
and hedgerows too
she bent down
and plucked a flower
that's Squinancywort
she said
showing you the flower
as she twirled it
between fingers
she offered it to you to smell
lovely isn't it?
you nodded
and carried the scent
with you as you both
moved on up the track
she turned to you and said
your dad does well
at his work for a townie
and you smiled
and so did she
and you captured
her lips parting
and her bright white teeth
and her eyes
moving over you
like a soft caress
and she whispered
turning her head away
do you love me?
and you whispered
yes.
poem by Terry Collett
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Jane and You and the Hollow Tree.
Jane waited for you
by the narrow road
that led to Linch farm
the water tower visible
against the afternoon sky
of pale blue and white
cold clouds
she was dressed
in a grey coat
and her dark hair
was pinned back
with grips
you noticed
blueness
about her lips
the cold taking toll
wasn't sure
if you would show
she said
the coldness
and such
I said I would
and I say
what I mean
you replied
once you were close to her
she took her hands
out of the coat pockets
and linked her arm
through yours
where shall we go?
she asked
you know it better
around here than I do
you choose
you said
let's go up
the dust track
to the hollow tree
on the way up
to the Downs
she said
ok
you said
and so you walked along
and up the dust track
side by side
and she talked
of the wintery trees
and what birds
there were still about
and how she liked
spring best with the coming
of flowers and birds nesting
and you listened
looking at her
as she spoke
watching her lips move
how when she spoke
her white teeth showed
and now and then
her tongue would show
and it reminded you
of that kiss she gave you
up by Diddling church
as you stood looking
at the grave stones
and she gazed at you
and then kissed
and her tongue
touched yours
and it was like heaven
as if someone
had opened up
your heart
and stuck
their tongue in there
and as you thought
about that kiss
she talked of some girl
of a cowman
who'd got pregnant
and how did that happen?
she asked
and you said nothing
but listened on
and then you reached
the hollow tree
and climbed inside
and sat down
looking out
of the hole
in the side
and it felt cosy
in there
like a small home
and she leaned
in against you
and there was silence
and you looked at her
at her eyes
and hair
and how her lips
were parted
and her white teeth
showed and her tongue
waiting to speak
and you wondered
about that kiss again
and whether
it would happen this time
there in the hollow tree
out of sight
of others
and she showed you
tucked between
her small breasts
a small locket
which used to be
her mother's.
poem by Terry Collett
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Mystery Child
as i walked through the hospital corridors
i saw this child coming towards ne
her head was shaven and very red.
she looked up and smiled at me
and made my heart skip a beat.
in a voice so soft that i could hardly hear
she wished me joy and good cheer.
i knew right from the start
that this child had a loving heart.
for even though she was in pain
from everything that she had gone through
and it was hard for her to walk
she stopped and smiled and started to talk.
she was born with a sickness at birth
and was daily fighting for her life.
but she had such faith in god above
that she would be alright
and knew that she had to fight.
this battle that they said she could not win
but to her -giving up was a sin.
i started to choke up inside and the tears started to roll
from my eyes.she gently wiped away my tears.
and whispered gently in my ear.
if only the world could see and feel what i have
locked up inside-that god has given me
there would be peace and harmony.
for the lord has shown me what is on the other side when i die
but! i will be here for a very long time.
for there are many hearts i've yet to touch
before i am taken away.
and true love will forever stay.
i started to choke up again, and when i looked up again she was gone.
till this day i ask myself who could this child have been?
that put faith back in my heart and showed me
the unconditional love from god above.
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?
poem by Louis Rams
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She Sang the Songs...
She sang the songs... he wrote the words;
sweet words of love, in perfect time
to her style... soft words of love;
the lyrics to her Country songs
of love and heartbreak, hope and sadness;
life spread out in flawless rhyme,
but they were really hopes, and dreams
of his...
he knew this, all along.
She wrote songs as well; and, when he read them...
his heart missed a beat;
Beneath the stave, below the notes...
her lyrics, in her childlike hand;
soft words of love, he longed to hear
her say to him...
all whispered, sweet;
now, here they were, before his eyes...
but, accident...
or gently planned?
Were they whispers of her heart...
or just composed from out her head?
he had no way of knowing,
but... in either case, her words were sweet;
a silky glide across the page...
a wistful ballad... hearts that bled;
he sadly smiled, yes... his heart bled as well,
but,
to a different beat.
She sang the songs... he wrote the words,
words from his heart... soft, yet intense;
Perhaps, one day, she'd see
they were for her...
and, not her audience.
poem by Dream Weaver
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King and I
I saw a boy in the clouds
He smiled down aon me,
he showed his teeth and stuck out his tounge
and threw out a dash of irony
I saw a girl in the sun
She must have been his friend
She had that same smile and sparkle
and as I could feel, my heart did bend
I saw a man in the leaves
He was reaching out his hand
but it looked for like a wave than yearning
and I wished to understand
I saw a princess in the raindrops
She was attached to a man'r arm
She had plastic legs and tiger eyes
and that shouldn't set off any alarm
I saw a King in the horizon
He had perfection all in a crown
He had love woven in his fingertips
and like a glass of water, he drank it all down
I saw a girl in the moon
She must have loved the king
She had a fairly large grin and a sparkle
that made every bird want to sing
I saw a couple in the sunset
They had their hearts and fingers laced
The had their vision slightly impaired,
but they knew they were rightly placed
poem by Faith Wood
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Rainy Day Under Trees
She stood with you
under the trees
the rain falling hard
the Sunday church service
had been a wet affair
the walk home together
then the bus
to the end of the road
and she said
Is it ever going to stop?
her hair was limp
and hung over
her forehead
her eyes bright
her complexion white
Sure
you said
But I've built an ark
in the woods behind
just in case
and she laughed
and took your hand
and said
How any animals
have you got so far?
Couple of woodlice
and beetles
and the odd worm or so
and you smelt
the scent on her
the warmth
of her hand
in yours and you both
under the trees
out of the rain
but the drops fell through
You remember that time
we went to the hay barn
to keep out of the rain
and we were wet through
and took of our clothes
and lay in the hay?
she said
snuggling closer to you
No can't say I do
you said
and she smack your arm
and said
Oh yes you do
and there was a break out
from the sun
through the branches
as if you say
I' still here
I'm trying to get through
and she looked at you
and you smiled
and said
I can still smell the hay
and you lying there
beside me
and the damp clothes
hanging over the hay bale
and you and I close
and warmth
and then she put
her finger to her lips
and shushed you
and drops of rain
came onto her head
Let's keep it kind of holy
she said
and kissed your damp ear
her lips like a blessing
soft skin on soft skin
and she moved away
and the rain eased
and you both moved out
into the woods
pleased.
poem by Terry Collett
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A Moon Mystery!
Auspicious or not, crescent Moon is always precious to poets;
Waxing and waning Moons have different effects of superstition;
Crescent Moons good or bad are ever poets’ great inspiration!
Crescent Moon is a basket for carrying flowers of Stars in it;
Crescent Moon is the boat that travels on the ocean of Sky;
Crescent Moon is a fine jewel decorating Lord Siva’s tresses!
Waxing crescent Moon with a Star is very auspicious to Islamites;
Thus silent beauty in the Western Sky encourages worn out souls;
But the waning crescent Moon in the Eastern Sky was a fun on tour!
What a beautiful sight the waning crescent Moon in the Eastern Sky!
On a sudden bus travel in plains I happened to see this in a cold night
Making me wonder as I used to wonder at the Western crescent Moon!
Moon is still a mystery though many rockets are sent there for probes
As the dark side of the Moon is still a dark matter for millions of years!
poem by Ramesh T A
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When Every Year Valentine's Day Comes
That day the sky was olive green
And the two green parrots repeated the words
'I love you'
Who exactly taught the birds to speak those words
I didn't know
But I knew it was easy to tell these words
in a moment of togetherness
The sun no longer shone in the sky
It was not the sunset still
She promised to come before the sunset.
she came and sat close to me.
She looked like an angel
To my surprise, she was clad in olive green
She was for me the sky
She greeted me with a casual 'hi'
She asked a series of questions
One question was -
'What date is today? '
I told '14th Feb'
'And just that? Nothing more? '
I stared at her face and she looked at the seashore.
She was silent in the twilight
Wanted to tell me something, all right.
But what did she want to say?
She only said 'Dont you know it's Valentine's Day?
I got back to my senses.
I was not in mine minutes before.
It was Valentine's day sure
It was, I heard, ' a lover's day, sure.
I wanted to apologise
I was so busy telling her ' I love you'
I missed what day it was.
But when I realised that it was
Valentine's Day
I forgot her call, her messges
I only remembered those three magical words
'I love you'
But she had left the place long ago
She is gone, gone for ever...
Still when every year Valentine's Day comes
I feel that it is my first love day
And I will whisper in my beloved' ears
'I love you'.
poem by Ratan Bhattacharjee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dog & Butterfly
There I was with the old man
Stranded again so off Id ran
A young world crashing around me
No possibilities of getting what I need
He looked at me and smiled
Said no, no, no, no, no child.
See the dog and butterfly. up in the
Air he like to fly. dog and butterfly
Below she had to try. she roll back down
To the warm soft ground laughing
She dont know why, she dont know why
Dog and butterfly
Well I stumbled upon your secret place
Safe in the trees you had tears on your face
Wrestling with your desires frozen strangers
Stealing your fires. the message hit my mind
Only words that I could find
See the dog and butterfly
Up in the air he like to fly
Dog and butterfly below she had to try
She roll back down to the warm soft ground
Laughing to the sky, up to the sky
Dog and butterfly
Were getting older the worlds getting colder
For the life of me I dont know the reason why
Maybe its livin making us give in
Hearts rolling in taken back on the tide
Were balanced together ocean upon the sky
Another night in this strange town
Moonlight holding me light as down
Voice of confusion inside of me
No begging to go back where Im free
Feels like Im through
Then the old mans words are true
See the dog and butterfly
Up in the air he like to fly
Dog and butterfly, below she had to try
She roll back down to the warm soft
Ground with a little tear in her eye
She had to try, she had to try
Dog and butterfly
song performed by by Heart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pestilential Solemn
From a deep slumber, a forever rest; lies abreast from me a lowly being.
T'was the same like before who showed no signs of fleeing.
He looked at me with his eyes he glared,
he looked at me with his nostrils flared.
He reached within me and grabbed my soul,
disappearing now into a world of cold.
An ethereal place where nightmare lurks,
as I wonder alone being the berkes.
I stood there edgewise as a crow flew to me,
he showed no fear, from what I could see.
He spoke with a voice so soft and ease,
'Weary traveler, let your trouble seize.'
I am stricken with angst as time before me froze
'What is now to come, but one of many woes? '
The crow before me, glisten and glowed;
forming a mirror, myself it showed.
Upon his chest a darkened hole,
and in his right hand beating, his heart and soul.
He reached with his left, grabbing my arm from the mirror,
my eyesight blurred for a second now is clearer.
He dragged me in as the mirror liquefied,
leaving me alone on the other side.
My body it burned as I looked upon my breast,
my heart was gone, a blackened hole upon my chest;
a beating in my hand with my heart in chains,
agony overwhelms as insanity now reigns.
A ghost beside me, a face like mine;
he laughed and jest as I am benign.
Time still froze while I lay restless,
lost in this dream, nonetheless.
poem by Adam M. Snow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Night Dream (Cavatina Sequence)
(after Archibald MacLeish)
It had been a dream but seemed much too real;
her eyes, her voice,
had a quiet kind of lovely quality,
even her poise
had maturity, some kind of gentleness,
with no noise
but the buzzing of bees at a flower
while we lay down in fields of white clover.
The sun fell hot on our skins, her smile was
very dazzling,
while her soft hand gently touched my face,
there was something
known in the way that she did speak with me,
how she did fling
her hair back, while my head did gently rest,
on her soft heaving perfect naked breast.
Love I do not know she said and smiled,
but she was mine,
while we kissed in moments of pure bliss,
drank some white wine,
talked about some things close to the heart,
the curving line
I traced of her bended lovely back
while the greatest pure joy we did not lack.
It had only been a rapturous dream,
that was fading
but her skin, her smile was kind of special;
away wading
into the vast ocean of memory
until reading
from the magazine you looked up at me,
I could not pass when your face I did see.
[Reference: 'The Night Dream' by Archibald MacLeish.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Crescent Moon
I stagger along silent way,
Alone, alone none with me;
The moon above with waning face
On galaxy's path I see.
O crescent moon, you are going
To be one with other part.
Just feel my pain that's killing me,
And going to stop my heart!
If you can see my far-off friend
In a lone, lone, lonely place,
Wrap him with your bright, shining beam,
Tell him that I need address;
At the end of your sweet journey,
You must be the graceful moon;
If you can have your happiness,
Oh! make meet my half part soon!
poem by Nilakshi Das
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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